


Keeper of the Blankets

by susiephalange



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff, Gally is Sweet, Sewing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susiephalange/pseuds/susiephalange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader has one job apt for her: sewing and repairs! But now it's coming into the colder months, she takes it upon herself to stitch all the Gladers blankets. Gally, however, seems to be lucky last...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeper of the Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> I'm such a loser for Gally, he's my favourite Glader (except Chuck, who can hate Chuck!) and I really think he needs more love. (✿ ♥▽♥)

It seemed odd that you had never been considered for any of the traditional Glader jobs. You were too queasy to work with the Slicers and the Medjacks, let alone the Sloppers, too slow for a Runner, not strong enough for a Builder, and your first day as a Trackhoe was fruitful...until you broke four fingers somehow. Alby never considered you to become anything you couldn't be, and be it that you were the second girl (Teresa made a wonderful Medjack) but for some reason, Alby didn't persist. But no matter what he insisted, it was Newt's idea for you to become the Stitcher.

It started at first with the mending of clothes. Holes in pockets of Medjacks, socks to be darned for Runners. After you managed to get through all of those, an idea struck you, and talking with Alby, you placed a request for the next delivery of goods.

The next week, arriving with the supplies, came a crate so large and heavy it needed several Builders to lift -- filled with materials for you to sew blankets for the Gladers.

You weren't sure why, but ever since the sun set in the later days, it had gotten quite cold at night. Much colder than you were used to, than anyone was. Thus, you began sewing patches for blankets to keep your brothers and sister of the Glade in good health.

In order for nobody to mix up, or fight over whose blanket was whose for the thirty-odd Gladers, you made them come to you to pick out the colours for their blankets. Zart liked yellow and blue. Alby preffered purple and green. Newt liked grey and red. Chuck wanted as many colours as he could. By the time you were up to the end of the list, you'd gotten through most of the Keepers, and almost all the Gladers. Your needle was bent from the overexertion, thread waning and fabric colours left to the dregs. At last, you managed to reach the end of all of the people --

"Gally!" you place a hand on his shoulder as you pass by. It's breakfast, and usually, you sit by Chuck to hear about his dreams, but today, you're interested in completing the last blanket. "You're the last one I need to sew a blanket for, I'm so sorry I'm slow." you smile.

The muscled Glader scoots over on the bench, and gestures to where he sat. "It's okay, _______. Sit down. I don't know how...this works."

Placing your porridge besides Gally's, you turn to him. He's slightly taller, even when sitting, and looking into his eyes, you feel something you can't comprehend. But instead of staring, you regain your composure, and smile at his other Builder friends. "It's an easy process, as these lads can tell you, if you ask," you scoop your porridge, but before you eat, you add, "Any questions?"

From the corner of your eye, you see Gally smile. It's small, and not enough to seem out of the ordinary for him, but it warms your heart. "I'm taller than the others, could you make it a little longer?" he requests.

If you hadn't already swallowed, you would have choked. "Wait, that's your only request?" you ask Gally, incredulous. "I had one guy ask me to make my stitches really small so he couldn't see them! Another guy wanted black and yellow so he could play snakes and ladders before bed!" you cry out, and taking a deep breath, you glance to Gally's friends. "Can you believe this guy? He's making my life easier!"

They all chuckle in response.

 

 

 

The next time you find Gally, it's to measure him for the blanket -- so it will be long enough to warm all of him. He knocks cautiously on the side of the homestead where you work, and without glancing up, you smile. "Come to see how it's going?" You ask him.

He frowns. "How'd you know-,"

You gesture to the sunlight filtering through the open door. "Your shadow gave it away, Keeper. I'm halfway through, I think, but I'm glad you're here. I need to see if you're taller than _I_ think."

Gally clears his throat. "So, how are you - do you have a tape?" He asks you.

Your nod comes through as enthusiastic. "Came up with the create. It has to be my most prized possession, this tape." You hold up the white and red measuring roll, and stand. "So, you want to see how it's coming along?" You ask him again.

Gally shakes his head. "No, I'd like to be surprised at the end, if that's alright with you."

You beam. "Sure it is! I - oh, you are tall, could you hold it right...here?" you stand on tip-toes, holding the measuring tape for Gally. "And I'll see how tall you really are." Bending your knees, you hold the tape to the ground. "Oh my goodness, you're right, you are tall!" you laugh incredulously. "No wonder I couldn't reach up there!" 

Gally frowns. "How - tall?" he stutters. If you were standing, you'd see his face flushed in a rosy blush unlike he'd ever displayed. 

"You are a total of a meter and eighty-eight centimeters," you relay, and standing, you add, "My tape says that comes to around six feet and one and a half inches," you beam, and add sadly,  "But knowing this, I'm unfortunately nowhere near the middle of your blanket, Gally." you wipe your hands on your pants.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," Gally gives you a smile. It's the sort of smile that makes you wonder if he meant it to cheer you up, or to make himself feel better about the disappointment. Either way, you brush it off, and keep a smile on. "Does this mean you need to ask the Creators for more...things?" he wonders.

You nod. "Definatly. And I haven't even made mine yet!" you laugh off, and take a deep breath. "Anyways, you're a busy person, I won't keep you here too much longer, Keeper," you nudge Gally's arm playfully. 

He smiles. "Thanks for everything, _______. 

 

 

 

That night, Gally writes a note for the Creators. He's never been this type of guy; he's never - well, from what he can remember - been the kind of guy to get attached by sentiment and that sort of thing. But he drops the note in for them, and knowing the package will come the next night, he's hopeful they will deliver. _______ is almost the opposite of him; when he's stern, she's bubbly, his frown becomes her smile; and somehow, when Gally's around her, he can feel something that seems to have grown on him, a darkness, lift. _Slightly._

Not that he's in love or anything.

 

 

 

The following morning, you find that every spot at the tables has been occupied. Newt and Chuck are talking about their vivid dreams, and for a change, Thomas and Minho are eating with the others, and complaining with the others about Frypan's cooking. Today's special: surprise omelette. Nobody knows what was _in_ the omelette, but they're still eating it. But no matter what the food is, you still have your portion, and nowhere to eat it. 

Except - 

"_______!" one of Gally's friends calls over. "Come sit with us!" 

Sure enough, right beside Gally's figure is a space the right size for you. Almost like magic. But instead of questioning it, you come to join their gathering. As soon as you sit, their conversation hushes, and begins another topic. And Gally's face, it's -

"Are you okay there, Gally?" you ask your friend, "You're redder than that drink of yours." 

His blush deepens. "Yeah, I'm -," he coughs, and downs half of his glass of water, "I'm great. And how are you?" 

You titter. "I'm fine, Gally...is something wrong? I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" you wonder aloud. The Keeper of the Builders shakes his head. "Oh that's good, I was afraid for a moment. How's everyone keeping with their blankets?" you turn the conversation to the rough and tough Builders sitting around, and glad with their confirmations of their warm sleeps in the colder month, you beam. "Oh, that's wonderful! Gally, I'm sorry to say, but I've run completely out of thread." your smile fades as you present the news. 

Gally's eyes widen. "That's awful," he sympathises. If you didn't know the Glader as personally as you did, you'd suggest he was completely out of character and sorts all together. But you do know Gally, and you nod. 

"I'll have to send an order down for the Creators," you preface, and after taking a bite of your breakfast, you add, "It will take a little longer. I wish I'd made the order yesterday, because of the Box coming up today and all, but that's life, I guess!" you beam. But just as you say that, there's the familiar alarm for the Box, the siren startling you slightly. "Early today, don't you think?" you glance to Gally.

He frowns. "Yeah, it is..." he confirms, and shoving the rest of his surprise omelette in at once, he jumps up to check out what the Box has brought up. Similarly, a few other Gladers follow. Walking out with Alby, you amble over to the hole in the ground, and gape. "Looks like there's more supplies!" Gally calls out.

Newt grins. "I hope they've brought me plums," he whispers to you. "I had a dream about them the other day."

Slowly and steadily, the Gladers pass the crates and boxes along to each other until they are stacked up nicely on the grass. There's a small box for Newt, and a box of medical supplies for the Medjacks. A box labelled with Minho's name is filled with gear for running the maze; drink bottles, hats to avoid sunburn, new socks. As everyone takes their things, the crowd dissipates, and you're left standing there, looking at a large crate. With Gally's name.

"I don't mean to pry," you walk to the crate and placing a hand on it, you look to the taller Glader. "But what did you ask from them?" your mind is filled with images of tools for building; chisels and hammers, bolts and nuts, extra pieces of lumber for construction. But Gally shakes his head. 

"It's not - for me," his face is rosy. "Open it."

Your mind races, and fingers under the lid, you prise the top from the crate. And all at once, you are stunned and dazzled and breathless and dizzy and you have no words but you want to gush and release all of them but you can't, all you can do is stop and stare. The crate is filled to the brim, filled with pretty colours of materials, arrays of threads. You see at one corner, a dozen balls of wool, and long needles. _Knitting_. You take a moment to catch your breath, but you just stare. 

"Is it okay?" Gally asks, his hands in his pockets. 

From the corner of your eye, you see his anxious stare, the way he's biting into his cheek and you can't help yourself. Because as quick as you can, you rush over, and barrel into his middle with the largest bear hug you can muster. Your antics almost knock him over; Gally is pushed back a few steps, and if you're hearing right, he's -

"Are you laughing at me?" you wonder.

Gally shakes his head, and wraps his arms around you. "I'm just realising," he lowers his head, and whispering in your ear, he confesses, "How much I am in love with what a blanket nerd you are." his lips brush against your neck, and then your cheek. You move your head, and before Gally can kiss your face, his lips are on yours, and you move your arms to around his neck to rope him in. 

"Yeah, but I'm your nerd."

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests, find me on Tumblr at @susiephalange, or [@phalangewrites](https://phalangewrites.tumblr.com/request_conditions) ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


End file.
